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Fred Crouch - Form tutor
                Taught me when I was 11 or 12, in an all boys school in Australia. He had long, silvery hair, and yellow teeth. We had a great deal of freedom. We addressed him as Fred.. He used to let us mark our own tests, saying, "I won't know if you cheat, nor will your parents; but you will.", So we all cheated for a while, but the message sank in. We were allowed to swear in our essays. "If the character would swear in real life, put it in.", he said. So we all put loads of swear words in for a while, but the message sank in. If we were fed up with a lesson, we could say, "I'm bored with this, can we do something else, Fred?", and he'd often change to what we wanted to do. Sometimes he'd change it himself.
                Once he drew a square on the blackboard, and said, "That's you. You're a box. Information comes into the box through these holes.", pointing to his eyes, ears and nose. This was just what my young mind needed to hear.
                One time 3 of us put our hands up and said, "We're bored.", and Fred told us to go out into the school grounds, and find something interesting to bring back and show the class. We wandered off, and eventually found a large empty barrel. We rolled it down to the playground. One of the others climbed inside, and we rolled it into the building and down the school corridors, past all the other classes, with the teachers looking out at us in disbelief. We burst into Fred's class, the kid jumped out, and went "TA DA!" or something. Fred thought it was great.
                 If he thought you'd been doing well, you got to go on periodic trips with about 10 other kids to the art galleries and museums in Melbourne. I got to go a couple of times. It was great!
                He once took us to a student production of "Macbeth". He brought a woman with him, who had glasses with WOODEN FRAMES???!!
                His ambition was to start a self sufficient nudist commune.

My school report, written by Fred in 1967. (when reports usually consisted of 'satisfactory', or 'must try harder' etc). reads:
 

 
Ben is making satifactory progress; but he does not seem to find study satisfying and is unable to concentrate very well. He does not see himself as a mind on the move, as intellectually responsible for the quality of his "becoming". Further maturation, perhaps next term, will require him to read more, question his identity, define his presence as an expression of his natural needs, and demand that he put our love and respect for him to the test. He has made good use of his time so far if he now appreciates our concern for him and knows that he is not expected to do his best for the wrong reasons.
 
 
 



 
                After Fred, and back in England, my next teachers were these demented weirdos.

Charlie - Technical Drawing
                Unbelievable. Had really weird glasses. One lens was bifocal, and the other was obscured glass, like a toilet window. He used to walk with his right hand thrust in his trouser pocket, his left arm swinging widely and wildly, and his head bent over at a sharp angle to the left. He would march straight up to doors, walls and other obstacles, then suddenly sidestep round them.
                We'd just got into class once, and he asked Harry Roberts to go and close the door. As Harry came back to sit down after doing so, Charlie jumped up and shouted, "Roberts, why are you late!?"
                But usually he didn't recognise any of us or remember our names. We were always getting each others work back etc., so we often pretended to be each other to add to the delicious confusion.
                Charlie had a spooky influence on the other teachers. We noticed them developing aspects of his walk. And it was Charlie who instigated the outbreak of weird ties.


Steve Arbry - Maths
             Once came back from the summer holidays with a great bushy beard. As we walked past him into the class, Harry Roberts said to me, "That reminds me; my hedge needs cutting."


Harry Homer - Form Teacher
                Had a weird walk all of his own. He used to "ski" everywhere. Sliding along the floor, never lifting his feet, and leaning slightly back, often flapping his tie with his hand. It was hilarious if he was going one way, and Charlie the other.
                Me and Mark Browning saw him in the pub once. We had on our normal clothes. Tie dyes and greatcoats. Homer was slumped on the bar. He looked up at me blearily and said, "Hrrggharrahuh, Waters!", and slumped back down. The next day he told the class that he had seen Waters and Browning last night, "....looking like Morecambe and Wise dressed up as hippies."
                He once had a go at me for wearing my greatcoat to school. Things like, "What right do you think you have to wear that coat? Those pilots risked their lives in the war for the likes of you" etc. I pointed out that my coat was a National Fire Service coat, not Air Force. He relented for a second, then blurted,  "Well they risked their lives as well!".  "Yes I know, my mum was in it." I retorted, which was true, and it shut him up.
                Wrote "Immature development" in big letters on the front of my final report.


Taplin - Science
                Famous for his chip pan fire demos.
                Buried a car in his back garden.
                We went into class once, and "Beware, there are idiots about." was written in large letters on the blackboard.
                At the height of the weird tie outbreak, when all the male teachers were wearing outlandish ties of all descriptions, Taplin was an enthusiastic participant, favouring large flowery kippers. So we all decided to go to class one day with weird ties. We managed to get some real beauties: kippers, woollens, bows, leather, etc. One guy had a huge parrot, which I really liked. Taplin didn't bat an eyelid, and just carried on as normal. The lesson was on the properties of light and colour.  After a while he got a projector out, and got Harry Roberts to stand at the back of the class. Harry was wearing a huge gold kipper. Taplin turned the lights out, and beamed various colours of light from the projector onto Harry's tie, making it go green, purple, orange, etc. etc.
                Far out! I was impressed.


Jack Russell - Deputy Head
             Authoritarian macho man.
                Once a week we had a lesson where we we supposed to discuss things: our thoughts, feelings, worries etc. Jack started one of these off by saying, "This isn't a normal kind of lesson, I want you to feel free to express yourselves, we're here to have an intelligent and open discussion. Today I thought we'd talk about the teacher - pupil relationship in this school. What do you think about that, umm......Waters?"     "Well sir, I think that the relationship in this school could be...." I began hesitantly. "Watch what you say boy, I'm listening very carefully!" interrupted Jack with a shout.
                He once told a depressed, insecure and vulnerable female classmate, who's adoptive father had just died, that what she needed was an unemotional affair with a middle aged man.
                 In the 6th form, the done thing was to try to become a Prefect. This meant you got to patrol the corridors at break times, and kick any pupils you found out into the playground. There was a trial period during which you got to wear a green "Sub Prefect" badge. Once you'd completed the trial period you were presented with your yellow "Prefect" badge. Harry and I thought it would be a laugh to become Prefects, and let all the kids in, so we applied, and duly received our green badges.
                At this time, we had to attend an extra lesson in the evening, as the school had no full time science teacher. Some of the kids nipped home then came back, while those living further afield would stay at school and wait. Harry and I were watching telly one time, in the dining hall, and smoking. It must have been about 6 o'clock. A teacher who had been working late walked past and saw us. He came in and blew his top. The next day we we're in Jack's office, having our badges ceremoniously removed. He gave us a lecture about letting ourselves and the school down, and said that if we toed the line  and improved our attitude he might consider re - instating us as Sub Prefects in a few weeks time. Harry and I  made a secret pact to be on our best behaviour, but to refuse the badges when we were offered them back. One day we were summoned into Jack's office. He told us "Your behaviour is still short of satisfactory, but there has been some improvement, so I'm prepared to give you your badges back, on the understanding that if there's slightest slip by either of you, you'll lose them for good. Well, here they are.".   "We don't want them , sir." we replied in unison. His jaw dropped, his eyes opened wide, and he stared at us in disbelief for 3 or 4 seconds. Then he snapped "Roberts, wait outside."  He leant forward and hissed at me, "You think you're so clever, don't you Waters; but let me tell you, you're walking very close to the edge of the cliff, and one day I'm going to take great delight in kicking you over. Now get out! and send Roberts in!"  Harry got much the same. The next week, in assembly, Jack was resplendent on the stage in his pink suit with the oversized button down flap pockets, announcing to all the pupils and staff that "...Waters and Roberts will not be re - instated as sub prefects, as they are not up to the job, and their behaviour is not of the required standard."
What a proud moment.

            Another time I was in the cloakroom, getting ready to go home, putting on my greatcoat. Russell comes in wearing the bright pink jacket with huge oversize button down flap pockets, secured by shiny black buttons the size of an old penny.  The effect was enhanced by the obligotory psycledelic paisley pattern tie, fawn slacks, orange socks and brown shoes. He looks at me standing there in my greatcoat and sneers, 'Waters, you look ridiculous!'
 

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